Chapter 22
Of course, I couldn’t tell Slim about pelts and shifters. But the story held together pretty well as a simple murder mystery...as long as I tweaked the tale to include Bastion being poisoned and the killer possessing the only cure.
We couldn’t go to the police, I embroidered, because the murderer had left a note threatening to ditch the antidote if we brought in backup. We couldn’t take Bastion to a hospital for the same reason. Plus, it was too late to pump his stomach and the poison was too exotic to be easily identified via conventional lab tests.
Our only solution was to tail Mr. Smythewhite and try to find what he was hiding from us. To my ear, the story sounded far-fetched and Gothic. But Slim went for it. He straightened like a soldier granted a promotion then asked: “
